


I Walk The Line

by stickylips14



Series: The Line [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Very Minor Character Death, blood mention, don't worry your babies are safe, lots of gentle moments, semi-graphic depictions of injuries and death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-05 19:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5387798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickylips14/pseuds/stickylips14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but her knight is never far away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had never happened like this before. All the times an akuma had emerged she had been clear of it, far enough removed that she could transform and save her friends, her school, her city.

It never happened like this.

The blast had knocked her forward, winded her, dirt was smeared over her capris, her arms and cheek. When she pushed herself up onto her hands she suddenly felt the vicious sting of dirt and dust grinding into open wounds-- her hands were cut up from trying to soften her fall on instinct. Actually, the more she focused on herself the more she realized that everything was sore. She was aching, her hip hurt and when she breathed in there was a sharp pain in her side. She… was injured. Marinette couldn't remember the last time an akuma had managed to hurt her, but then she had never been caught in an explosion caused by an akuma as she was cutting across the park on her way home from school. She had never felt such gripping fear as when the ground seemed to buckle beneath her from the force, as she had today.

 Marinette’s legs shook underneath her once she managed to get up; the dust hadn't settled yet but she had heard other people nearby her. They were scared, she had to help them.

“Don't-- don't be scared, just keep talking to me, I'm coming your way!” she called out into the dust, squinting as she took her first cautious steps over the rubble and chewed up grass. Her ears were ringing.

A little girl replied to her, shrill with panic. “My mama! Mama won't get up!”

Marinette’s heart felt like it would cave in and then she was positive that it did when she reached down for her purse and found it wasn't there.

It wasn't there. _Tikki wasn't there._

_Oh god._

_I'm alone._

She choked down the bile that rose in her throat, clenched her teeth, and stumbled towards the pleading voice of the little girl nearby.

She was no more than seven years old, with brown hair in disheveled pigtails and a dirt-stained sundress. Her small, chubby arms held her mother's hand to her chest, her mother who lay beside her on her side, a red blotch covering her temple, catching in her hair. Marinette dropped to her knees and pressed two trembling fingertips to the woman's neck, relieved that there was a pulse.

“It's alright, sweetheart… your mum is going to be okay. She's just… asleep.” She smiled at the little girl as best she could, gently smoothing back her hair. “What's your name?”

“Charlotte.”

“That's a pretty name. I'm Marinette and… and I'm going to stay with you until your mum wakes up, okay?” she didn't know what else to do without Tikki, and she couldn't bear the thought of leaving this little girl all alone. There had been no other explosions close enough that she heard them and, for now, she had to pray that Chat Noir could handle things on his own.

“Miss, you have red on you.”

 

She dreamed of blond hair and green eyes glancing back at her over a shoulder clad in white. The skyline of Paris was the backdrop, almost perfect except for the tiny details that were completely wrong upon further inspection. No windows where there should be some, the stars were missing and, if she really looks hard enough she could see the streetlamps were instead fat flower bulbs, glowing softly. Adrien turned to face her, smiling softly and then he shouted, “Marinette! Please wake up!”

 

The world wheeled above her. She felt like she had been spinning in circles too fast for too long and the ringing in her ears hadn't stopped. Chat Noir leaned over her, blotting out the sky with his masked face pressed into a deep frown, his mouth twisted in concern so that she wanted to reach up and try to rub that expression away. Who's hand was that touching his jaw? Hers?

“Kitty…”

 

He had found Marinette collapsed next to a little girl and her mother who left to get medical attention as soon as he had knelt down beside the girl. She was covered in dirt and the knees of her pants were torn. Her hands were grazed and a bruise rose up along one cheekbone but the worst of it was obscured by her fringe, matted with blood. “Oh no… no, Marinette…” Chat Noir whispered, laying his hand against her cheek. He could handle all of this, the absence of Ladybug, the destroyed park-- the fact that the akuma had gone into hiding, even the other civilians that had been injured but not _this_. Not Marinette, who was sweet and gentle and had never done anything to deserve harm. It hit too close to home.

“Marinette! Please wake up!” he squeezed her shoulders, being careful not to shake her. “Please…”

And she did. Bright blue and unfocused eyes stared up at him and her small hand reached up and brushed along his jaw as she murmured something incoherently. Chat relaxed minutely, smiling down at her and gently catching her hand in his. “You're going to be alright. I'll take care of you.”

 

She was light as a feather even as deadweight in Chat’s arms. Marinette folded her arms over her stomach protectively, complaining of pain, and rested her cheek against his shoulder. Chat was warm under her touch and Marinette was glad for small blessings.

“My… my purse is here-- I can't leave it.”

“I don't see it.”

“I didn't fall here… over there, by the bench.”

Chat stepped lightly for her and when they reached the bench he righted it with his foot so that he could sit her down on it. “Stay right here.” He flashed her a smile that she returned lopsidedly, because she sure as Hell wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry. At any rate, he found the purse quickly, marveling that it was sitting, seemingly, as though it had been placed carefully on top of the churned up grass and rubble. Chat placed it in Marinette’s lap and watched her hand run along the strap that had snapped before she picked it up and sighed in relief.

“I'm so glad it's okay. I'm okay.”

 

Chat Noir didn't know where else to take her aside from back to her own home. He couldn't take Marinette to his, and he wasn't quite able to take her a hospital where she would eventually be taken away from him.

She gave him directions he didn't need, drowsily explaining that he could enter right into her room from her balcony on the top floor.

 

Chat lay her down on the chaise lounge, propping her head on the cushion and finally breathing just a little easier. Marinette’s eyes were open and focused on him, one hand still laid over her stomach, cupping the side of her ribs.

“Do you have a first aid kit?”

“Mm, the bottom drawer of my desk…” Chat nodded in acknowledgment and set to searching through her things as delicately as he could, quashing his curiosity to do this for her. He stopped with the first aid kit in his hand when he heard a groan, whipping his head around to find she had moved from the chaise.

Marinette stood by her dresser, her jacket and ruined capris discarded to the floor and now she was struggling to pull her shirt up over her head, hunched over in pain with the material bunched in her hands near her waist, exposing the edges of an intense bruise. “Ch-Chat, can you help me?” Her voice shook with restrained tears and there was no way he could or ever would say no to that.

 She turned to face him when Chat approached, letting go of her shirt and staring down at the carpet. It was the first time he had really _looked_ at her in this state, dirt smeared with her hair disheveled and nearly falling out of it's pigtails. She was only wearing underwear which Chat tried not to look at (they were white cotton, with blue polka dots, and he resented himself for memorizing that) and the shirt she couldn't get off by herself.

“Okay, just relax. I'm going to pull your arm through one sleeve, then over your head… just tell me if it hurts too much.”

“Okay.”

Of course it had to be excruciating no matter how careful Chat Noir was, but Marinette did nothing more than grit her teeth and squeeze her eyes shut, not even letting out a whimper as he pulled the shirt over her head and off the other arm, dropping it to the floor.

She was so brave.

Her left side was a huge, mottled bruise that started just under her bra and stopped at the curve of her waist.

So brave.

Marinette bowed her head to his chest and sighed slowly. “Thank you…”

“That's alright, princess. This…” Chat lay his hands on her shoulders and didn't finish his sentence. Instead he reached over her to open a drawer, and then another until he found a night shirt, flannel and soft and most importantly he could unbutton it and slip it onto her without Marinette needing to raise her arms. His fingers got clumsier with the buttons the closer he got to her navel, but Marinette took care of the last three buttons herself.

 

Chat used a half empty water bottle he found on Marinette’s desk to clean the dirt out of the cuts. They weren't so bad, shallow grazes that would be itchy if nothing else, but he dabbed antiseptic cream over them in hopes to stop that. The worst of it was on the heel of her hands which he covered with a gauze pad. He did the same for her knees, before pulling over her desk chair and sitting himself down, wetting a cotton ball and bringing it to her forehead to clean away the blood and dirt collected there.

“Chat Noir, shouldn't you be going after whoever did this? You don't have to look after me. They could hurt other people.” He dabbed at her cheek as she spoke, piling the spoiled cotton balls in his lap.

“Don't worry, princess, I had them running with their tail between their legs, straight into hiding. And if they reappear while I'm  here with you, I'm sure my partner will contact me. So for now…” Chat had finished cleaning her face, and smiled at her in a way not so angular as usual. “Let me look after you, Marinette.”

Marinette smiled in return, grateful for her kitty, but sagged under the guilt of leaving him to fight alone. She should have been there. “Chat.”

“Yes, princess?” He actually _reow_ ’d in surprise when she sat up and threw her arms around him, pressing her face into the warmth of his neck and just… staying there for a minute until she felt Chat’s hands on her back, then she lay back against the chaise, cheeks dusted red and smiling shyly at her bandaged hands.

He only just caught the murmured thank you as he was dampening another cotton ball with disinfectant, reaching with his free hand to sweep her fringe back.

“This might sting, forgive me, princess.” She hissed and squeezed her eyes shut at the first contact, shoulders hunching but she didn't complain. The cut was two inches long following her hairline and wider at one end than the other and by the time Chat was done, he doubted it would ever get infected although just to make sure, he smeared antiseptic cream onto the gauze before covering the cut up.

He pressed a butterfly-light kiss to it as well, just to be doubly sure. “Well, I think you'll live.”

“Only thanks to you, kitty.” Marinette giggled, touching her fingers to the gauze on her forehead. “What do you think? Does it suit me?”

“Princess, you could be sitting here in a rubbish bag and a black eye, and you'd still be beautiful.”

“You're such a flirt. How does Ladybug put up with you?” She asked wryly, toeing that line carefully enough. Obviously she was starting to feel better, although her head ached almost as badly as her ribs. As if he read her mind, Chat handed her the last of the water.

“I only flirt with beautiful girls.”

“That didn't really answer my question.” Marinette shot back, but she was willing to let it go, not well enough yet to try and understand Chat Noir. If nothing else, he was consistent, she supposed. Right now he was laughing and shrugging off the fact that he had dodged her.

 

There was a silence that followed, falling between softly and not disturbed when Chat gently picked her hand up in his and simply held it, his thumb running circles over her skin. It was Chat who broke the silence, bowing his head as he spoke.

“Marinette, this is my fault… I… I should have been there to protect those people, to protect you. This should have never have--”

“Kitty, stop.” She squeezed his hand as much as she could, sitting up and swinging her feet down to the carpet so that her knees were between his and she could duck into his line of vision. “This isn’t your fault, you can't possibly be everywhere at once. You could never have predicted this would have happened, or that I was going to be right there, right then… and I'm okay, thanks to you. You found me and took care of me, even though you didn't have to.” She touched her free hand to his cheek, touching the edge of his mask. “Don't feel guilty. You saved me.”

He leaned into her hand, turning his lips to her palm for a moment, placing a kiss there before he spoke. “You're so brave, princess. You remind me of my partner.”

“Ladybug?” She laughed, shaking her head and swallowing down her nervousness. “No-- no, she's much braver than me. I… could never do what she does.”  

“Don't sell yourself short. That little girl I found you with said you came over to help her, even though you were hurt. You comforted her. That's bravery, Marinette.” Chat said it with such honest intensity it made her cheeks hot and she giggled nervously, lifting her hand up to scratch behind his leather ear.

“You're sweet, kitty.” _And purring_ , she noted with a bitten smile and a more vigorous scratch across his scalp, which he rolled his head into and that really made her laugh, bringing her other hand up to cover more ground, fingertips burying into soft golden hair on a head that bowed to meet them. Chat Noir really was purring and Marinette laughed harder, until her side was hurting so much she had to stop, hovering a hand over the spot. Chat’s face was flushed and content when he looked up, only slightly disturbed by a frown as he looked her over.

“Your ribs? Do you think they're broken?”

“No, I don't think so, just bruised. It hurts when I laugh too much, Chat, you were _purring_.”

He had the audacity to giggle at that, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. He made no excuses. Another pleasant silence came between them. Their knees touched and the back of Marinette’s fingers lay against leather, loose and relaxed. Chat Noir traced a pattern along where the skin wasn't broken for a long time before speaking again.

 

“Princess, I should be going. You need to be resting, and I think you should have your ribs looked at soon.” He was reluctant, but he didn't want to outstay his welcome and, there was still an akuma to track down. Marinette nodded in agreement and Chat stopped her from getting up. “Stay, I can let myself out.”

“Kitty, thank you again. For everything.” He stood up as she spoke, matching her smile before leaning down which she seemed to anticipate, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he kissed her forehead, lingering there afterwards with his cheek against her skin.

“May I check up on you in a couple of days?”

“I would like that.” He pulled away, taking his warmth with him with one last touch to her cheek.

“Then I'll see you soon, princess.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Chat Noir witness the consequences of not purifying an akuma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wondered what would happen to a person possessed by an akuma if they didn't do as Hawkmoth asked. Like, not just getting distracted by revenge and their powers, but straight up refusing to do what he wants because it's too awful and not worth the guilt. He's always threatening people with pain after all.
> 
> Well, I explored a headcanon of mine that is 1000000% never ever going to canon in this chapter. I hope you uh, enjoy.

Ladybug landed in a crouch and sucked in a deep and shaky breath, cupping her left side and trying to stop the shakes in her muscles.

Apparently, although transforming made her untouchable to new injuries, it did nothing to soothe old ones and she had only bruised her ribs yesterday afternoon. Her hands and knees weren't healed either and Tikki had used extra energy to hide the gash on her forehead, although she had to remove the gauze pad and checked her appearance in every reflective surface she came across, just to make sure it was truly hidden. Chat couldn't catch on.

She stood slowly and carefully, walking over to the ledge of the terrace rooftop.

 

Pain be damned, she had an akuma to find. She had to make it up to Chat for not being able to help him and she had to defeat the akuma to restore the city. The park was still ruined and if she wasn't quick there would be heat from the city officials.

There had been no other sightings of the akuma since Chat faced it so she had no idea where to start, she was picking through a hay stack by trying to observe the entire city from one vantage point, all by herself and in pain. It all looked grey to her, the city still in shock, reeling from the events of yesterday. Even school had been cancelled, but she breathed just that little bit easier knowing that there had been no casualties. This was not a city in mourning yet.

 

Five minutes into staring into the horizon there was a faint thud behind her and the ringing of a bell which she turned to face, smiling lopsidedly at her partner.

“Hello, my lady. I'm glad to see you, I was beginning to worry something had happened to you.”

“Chat Noir, I'm so sorry I wasn't with you yesterday--” he was already shaking his head in protest, smiling softly at her.

“I know you had a good reason, and I was fine by myself. You're here now, we should find the akuma and take care of it.”

Her chest swelled with a feeling she couldn't pin down, all she knew was that she had never been more grateful for who her partner was, how understanding he was and how gentle. If only he knew just how much he looked out for her.

 

She smiled at him and hoped that communicated enough of her feelings. He grinned right back.

 

“I'll take you to where I saw it last, if you can keep up.” Chat Noir easily sprung off the ledge, using window sills as stepping stones down to the road below. She could see his grin from the third storey, shaking her head. She threw her yo-yo out to catch on a streetlamp, swinging down in a wide spiral and landing flat on her feet, only a little woozy from pain. There was a flicker of something unfamiliar running across Chat’s face that didn't last.

He took off up the street, zig-zagging around streetlamps as if showing off when really, he was giving Ladybug the time she needed to catch up. She was holding back and naively he told himself it was because she was reserving her strength for the fight.

 

They were far away from where Chat had last seen the akuma, and by three blocks they gave up the race, slowing down to walk side by side, speaking sparsely.

“I think it's her gloves that are giving her power. She didn't have any weapons, she was just using her hands to fight. She wasn't good at combat. So long as she doesn't blow anything up again, it'll be an easy fight.”

“We absolutely can't let her do anymore damage to the city. I saw the park, it's… Nothing else can end up like that. Someone might be killed.”

“Don't worry,” Chat said, touching his hand to Ladybug’s lightly. “I'll distract her long enough for you to purify her. No one will get hurt, there's hardly anyone around, anyway.”

Ladybug closed her hand around Chat’s long enough to stop him and then she smiled at him, squeezing his hand before letting go. She ignored the sting in her palm, it was worth it.

 

When they came within a block of where Chat had last seen the akuma, they became cautious. They didn't leave each other's sights, but they parted ways as much as possible, taking to the rooftops to examine alleyways and side streets.

Nothing.

It was quiet, there was nothing there.

They met back up on the roof of a low apartment building, with an alley that ran right around to the back of the building. Disheartened, they stood in silence across from each other trying to think. They had never dealt with an akuma so sly, one that bid its time.

It was unusual.

 

Chat sighed, not able to just stand around for very long. He started to pace, wider and wider until he was reaching the ledges. He came to the edge that framed the back alley, and froze, stumbling back two steps.

“Ladybug… I found her.”

“--what? Chat, get back! Where is she?”

“I… I don't think that's necessary. She isn't a threat.” He replied, his voice thick and strange. Ladybug frowned and crossed the roof to him but didn't get near the ledge. Chat grabbed her suddenly by the arm and pulled her hard to him so that they were chest to chest, one arm braced across her shoulders and the other held her head to his chest. She protested, but he cut her off.

“My lady. Don't look. You don't need to see.”

“But--but what is it? Where is she?”

Chat exhaled shakily against her ear, staring down over the ledge.

 

The akuma was dead. Or to be more exact, the woman it had possessed was dead. She lay sprawled on her back in the alley, among the rubbish bags and scrappy, discarded furniture. There was no blood on her lab coat or her trousers. She was perfectly intact, except for her face. Her face was something Chat Noir would never, ever get out of his head.

She was burnt. The burns ran down from the bridge of her nose in lines past her cheekbones, disappearing under her brown, curly hair.

Her eyes were gone. Burnt out, nothing but hollow, charred pits staring upward forever, at Chat. He felt like they would watch him for the rest of his life. Her mouth was still contorted in agony.

 

“Chat?”

“She's dead.” He tightened his grip on her, anticipating the struggle. He mistook her gasp of pain as protest.

Her side ached but she barely noticed, those two words rattling around her head. “H-how do you know…?”

“Her gloves. She's wearing the gloves…” He bowed his head to her shoulder, and Ladybug felt him trembling. For the first time, she didn't know what to do.

So she held him, pushing one hand up into his hair and the other rested between his shoulderblades. She pressed their cheeks together and let the contact soothe in a way words couldn't as slowly Chat relaxed into her, his hold not so desperate. All the while she stared blankly over his shoulder, trying and failing to find a reason not to blame herself for the failure of this mission. The woman's blood was on her hands, if only she had been strong enough to find Tikki in the wreckage and transform. It didn't matter that she was in pain and disorientated, it was her duty to protect Paris and her people.

She ached.

 

Chat Noir didn't stop trembling even after the police arrived and took turns asking Ladybug and Chat questions, hearing them explain that they didn't know what had happened to the woman, only that they found her this way when they went searching for her to confront her and heal her. It was a nightmare. Ladybug never saw the body, one small drop of luck that Chat was thankful for.

Once the police had taped off the scene and were done with the duo, they sat on the steps of the apartment block, shoulder to shoulder and miserable.

 

“... It wasn't your fault.” Ladybug said softly to Chat, not moving away from the small touch of his shoulder and arm. “You couldn't have healed her on your own. I should have been there to fight with you-- don't worry, I'm not blaming myself.” She lied for his sake. “It was just…”

“Bad luck.” Chat supplied and he was the first to move, turning to kiss her cheek which she allowed with no fuss, smiling sadly up at him. A kiss on the cheek was all she could allow and he understood that. “I have to go, my lady.”

“Okay. Will you be okay?”

“Eventually,” he said after a considered moment. “I think I know someone who can help me feel better. And you?”

Ladybug stood up and stepped down to the street, nodding. “Soon enough. You saved me from seeing something that would have changed that answer, I think. Thank you.”

 

She left first, taking her time to walk to the end of the block before taking to the air, but Chat didn't watch her go. He stared up at the pink and orange of the sunset spilling out like an ink stain over the sky, thinking about a warm pink room and girl he promised to check up on.

  
Now was as good a time as any.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for the next chapter.  
> It's time to sin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As she thought, Marinette gets a visit from Chat Noir after the wreckage of their last patrol, seeking comfort and confirmation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note; although nothing explicit happens, there is some kissing and general teenagers-exploring type things in this chapter!

Marinette expected to find Chat Noir in her room. What she didn't expect was to find him sitting pretzel style in her computer chair, turning around in it slowly to smirk at her as she carefully closed the door behind her so it wouldn't slam shut.

“Adrien Agreste, really?” She scowled at him, ignoring the urge to defend her crush so that she could instead be mad that Chat Noir had been snooping on her computer. Or at least looking at her desktop background.

Only she wasn't _really_ mad. She was concerned. Only an hour had passed since, as Ladybug, she had left him sitting on the steps of an apartment block he found a dead woman behind. He had been visibly shaking and miserable. Now, he looked like the Chat Noir of any other day, cocky and relaxed. Following her with a cool gaze as she shook her head and moved to her mirror, taking her hair out of her pigtails and beginning to brush it, paying extra attention to the kink her hair ties had left in it, to no avail.

“Did you come just to tease me, Chat Noir?” She asked over her shoulder. He stood up now, seeming to observe her room, running a hand along her desk and touching the blanket on the chaise, where she had slept last night because it hurt too much to climb the ladder to her bed. It was soft and pink and she watched in silence save for the zinging of her brush running through her hair, as he lifted the blanket to his cheek and then turned his nose against it, exhaling slowly before dropping it again.

“Chat Noir…?”

“I came to check on you, Marinette, like I promised.” He spoke strangely, absently as he came to stand beside her and she watched both of them in the mirror. Chat took the brush from her and slowly started to tease out the small knots and snags in her hair that she pretended were from sleep, and not leaping over rooftops. “Let me see.”

“What?”

“Your ribs, princess. Let me see them.”

The way he said it made Marinette feel like she didn't have a choice, but that didn't make her cave. “They're fine, Chat Noir. Well, still sore, but not worse. Not broken.”

“I want to see them.” He insisted, setting the hairbrush down and instead grabbing at the fabric of the flannel night shirt he had slipped onto her last night-- he didn't pull it up, but Marinette still grabbed him by the wrist as tightly as she could, not giving him the chance. This was getting out of hand. Something was wrong with Chat Noir that was damaging him and he thought she didn't know what, or that she wouldn't notice.

“Chat, I saw what happened on the news.”

His expression changed minutely, but she noticed. Marinette slowly rose her hand as she would to a stray, touching his cheek lightly and when he didn't flinch, she cupped her palm against his skin, bringing up her other hand as well. She spoke slowly and softly. “A woman died.”

He gave up the facade.

 

“Her name was Poppy. She was thirty-two, with a sister and two cats. She was a scientist. She loved her work. And now she is dead.”

Chat Noir broke in a very quiet way. He listed what he knew about the dead woman with a low voice, with no particular inflection to his tone. Just stating facts. But he sagged under the weight of his guilt, his hands dropping from Marinette’s pyjamas to hang limp at his sides. He folded into her embrace with no resistance, leaning into her with his forehead pressed to her neck. She buried her hands in his hair, running her fingertips down to the nape of his neck and up again slowly and over and over. “Yes, Chat, she is dead. And I know you wished you had saved her. But it wasn't your fault, and even though you couldn't save her, do you know who you did?” She drew him back gently so she could meet his eye. “You saved me.”

“I… saved you.”

Marinette nodded, smiling softly. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I'm sixteen years old. Only child with one pet kitty,” she giggled, rubbing her thumb over his cheek. “High school student. I love to design. And I am alive.”

“Because of me.”

“Because of you.”

It took a moment, but finally a small and genuine smile graced Chat’s lips with none of the usual angles and sharp corners. It was just sweet, and Marinette felt like it was a little easier to breath. He wasn't healed yet, but it was a start. She would do her best for her partner.

 

“Now what's wrong with Adrien Agreste?” Marinette demanded with an exaggerated pout, trying to lift the mood as she moved past Chat, sitting on the chaise and pulling the blanket over her lap. The night shirt only reached mid-thigh, and a lot of bruises had come to the surface over night.

Chat chose to sit on the floor beside her, his arms folded on the chaise as he looked up at her, seemingly surprised.

“He's just some boy, you could do so much better, princess.”

“He's sixteen and a _model_ , kitty. He's so… handsome and sweet, and in my class…! Sometimes we even talk.” Marinette sighed, refusing to be ashamed of her feelings.

“He's _alright_ , but I'm definitely more handsome than he is.” Marinette laughed, which made him pout, then she scratched under his chin and he pouted more.

“Yes, yes, who's a handsome boy, kitty cat?” She teased, tapping his nose before dropping her hand away.

“I'm just saying,” he huffed, “that you could do better than a model. Say, a _hero_.”

She scoffed, looking away from him. _What about Ladybug?_ She wanted to ask, but couldn't think of an answer that would benefit either of them. She let it slide, starting when suddenly Chat Noir moved his crossed arms into her lap, resting his chin on one forearm and looking up at her. She smiled lopsidedly, resting a hand lightly between his leather ears. “Yes?”

“Nothing, princess.” She found that hard to believe, but only sighed in return, leaning back on one hand while the other gently played with his hair. It was nice, at least, to sit with him in silence. For them to comfort one another in this little way.

 

Chat Noir was purring again, and he didn't care. He pressed into the contact of Marinette’s small, warm hand in his hair, rubbing and nudging until he could get her skin under his lips to kiss her palm lightly, avoiding scraps and cuts as he worked his way down to her wrist. Every part of her was so delicate, slim and soft that he wanted to trace it all with his lips if only she would allow it. But her arm fell away from his mouth and he looked up to find her staring back, lips parted a fraction as if a question was just on the brink of being asked.

She had a pretty mouth.

He wondered if it had ever been kissed.

 

When he stood on his knees, he was face to face with her. The chaise was low but she only reached his chest when they stood, anyway, so neither of them were surprised. Slowly, Chat had raised one hand, brushing aside her fringe to look at the gash along her hairline that was missing it's dressing. It had scabbed over already, clean and tidy. It would heal and only leave a flicker of a scar, much to his satisfaction. Marinette still sat in silence, her hands on either side of her relaxed but her lips still holding just a little tension. His fingers moved down to her cheek next, ghosting the bruise along the curve of bone. “You are beautiful.”

 

It struck Marinette that it was probably a bad idea to consider finding comfort in this sort of thing; Chat’s gentle administrations of affection as he checked over her injuries, the way his eyes seemed to keep catching on her lips.

The way her’s kept catching on his.

They were both shook up, feeling guilty and hurt by their first real failure to protect their city and people. Not only that but Marinette was hurt and like a child seeks their mother when they are sick, she searched for something to ease the pain. It was a bad idea.

But Chat Noir didn't know that she was Ladybug, their partnership wasn't in danger of changing if at least one half of it stayed blind, and she could act. She had proven that.

And they deserved this, this little piece of relief from their separate lives. She could give and take from Chat Noir and not feel guilty for it; he was her best friend, whether he knew it or not. This was their private world in the confines of her room.

Maybe it wasn't a bad idea.

 

The feather light touch of Chat’s clawed fingertip dragging over her bottom lip pulled her away from her endless back-and-forth thoughts. On instinct alone her lips parted further; the touch had tickled in a way that made her cheeks warm. Marinette raised her hand as well, brushing Chat’s lip with her finger just as he had hers, wanting to share the sensation of it. He chased her finger, lifting his chin to catch the caress again,so she curled her fingers along his jaw, touching her thumb to his bottom lip to stroke gently. He had a slight indent in the middle of his lip, and when his mouth was slack it pulled down slightly at the corners. She felt every pen-stroke line and traced the fine cupid’s bow of his top lip with fascination. Her focus only broke when Chat Noir’s hands brushed her hips before pressing into the chaise on either side of her and she understood. Her hand moved to cup his cheek as he leaned in, touching their noses together with a nuzzle before his head tilted and he kissed her.

It was almost chaste, the careful press of his closed lips to hers, but it still caused Marinette’s cheeks to flare with color and her free hand curled in the blanket still in her lap.

Chat Noir was her first kiss.

And her second, after a moment of breaking away from each other. The second kiss was more. More everything; more passionate, more daring, more electrifying. Her knees parted so that Chat could move closer and in an act of bravery she slipped her arms over his shoulders, threading her fingers together, palm resting over back of hand. His tongue ran over the seam of her lips and she thought the rush of her blood would be the death of her, but her lips parted anyway and his hand at the small of her back pulled her closer as he teased her tongue with his. Marinette’s grip around his shoulders tightened.

It was a smooth and easy motion to cup his hand under Marinette’s knee and lift it, angling her to lie back on the chaise and then chasing after her, pulling her thigh to his side. Her night shirt rode up around around her hip, exposing smooth skin and patches of day old bruises. She fell against the cushions in surprise, her hands cupping his cheeks to keep him at bay for a moment.

“Are you okay?” She asked soft enough to only fill the space between them. Chat stared down at her, one hand caught in her loose hair. He was considering his answer.

“No.” He said, “But I will be, Marinette. Are you okay?”

“Only a little sore.” She confessed, but not to deter him. Chat didn't need to say he would be gentle; she already knew he would be. And she didn't tell him about her own guilt because it wasn't the right time. She needed her mask for that.

 

It started off as innocent kisses, two teenagers exploring all the sensations that they could inspire with only their mouths meeting, teeth grazing the petal-soft skin only to be soothed with the tip of a tongue a second later. It all felt good, and they were caught in a loop if this little touches for a long time, until they were drunk enough to be braver still.

Chat Noir discovered quickly that Marinette had a sensitive neck and that by covering it in butterfly kisses she giggled and squirmed, and her face flushed with heat. If he sucked on the smooth skin below her ear, the response was different. Her head tilted and shoulders hunched, a sweet sound slipped past her lips that she didn't have time to stop. It was the best noise he had ever heard, and she made it four more times by the time he reached her collarbone, carefully pushing aside her pyjamas to reach the well defined and entirely kissable curve of bone. Marinette lay her forearm across her eyes, her other arm hooked around Chat’s neck and her fingers gripping into his hair.

She gasped in shock when her night shirt was suddenly pulled up well past her breasts, exposing all of her to him, and he was taking in every sight.

 

Marinette wore a cream colored bralette, trimmed with lace and the heat of her body had molded the fabric to her skin. Her underwear were pink today, covered in little flowers and this time he felt no guilt for memorizing this. She was his right now. She stared down at him with burning cheeks, but didn't raise a question. He bowed down over her, his lips pressing to the skin beneath her bralette in worship.

Her body was surprisingly firm. As he pressed kisses above her bellybutton the skin didn't give, the muscles beneath it tense and tight. The idea that Marinette was this strong made him flush, the tips of his ears burning. He stroked his hand up along her thigh and found the muscles just as well trained, firm and smooth. Chat rested his cheek against her abdomen, watching his own hand wander along her skin, leather-clad fingers curling around her hip and pressing just enough to feel the bone jutting up. Her back was arched under him, making this precious touch even more tantalizing. Marinette’s hand rearranged it's hold on Chat’s hair, loosely tangled in the soft gold waves at the crown of his head.

They just lay there for a moment, feeling each other breathe. Marinette took the time to focus on sensations that weren't being caused by the boy between her thighs. The toes of one foot brushed over the pile of the carpet, coarse but pleasant in a sea of gentleness. Her ribs ached in a dull, grey sort of way and some of her hair had caught on her kiss-bruised lips. Little things. Memorable things.

 

Chat Noir was more ruthless in his endeavor to paper over the events of the past two days. The hand on her hip moved again suddenly, his fingers catching in the lace of her underwear and yanking them down, exposing on an angle the unmarred skin of the very top of her thigh, the slight slope that ran down from her hip bone and from under the rumpled lace he saw the fine black curls of her pubic hair. Under him Marinette had gasped and pushed herself up, but his head was in the way. She only knew what he was doing when his open mouth came down against the inner of the top of her thigh and sucked, _hard_.

She cursed. She sucked in a hard, shaky breath and spat it out again as an “oh, _fuck_.” when Chat rolled his tongue over the skin, and her hand tightened in his hair and tugged as he continued to suck slowly, rolling the skin between his teeth gently so that this touch would not be soon forgotten, by Marinette or her skin. The fingers that held her underwear out of the way moved over the cotton, slipping between her trembling thighs to run lightly where she was warm and wet with want. His touch was so light it was enough that she rolled her hips for more, breaths only coming in gasps now and soft, slurred words he didn't catch. He let her move herself against him until she was so focused that she didn't notice when Chat moved his mouth, admiring the cherry red mark left behind but wholly distracted by Marinette.

Perfect, beautiful Marinette who had never been touched like this before, who was pressing her knuckles to her lips and scratching at the fabric of the chaise in a desperate attempt to ground herself. Marinette whose blush ran right down to her chest which heaved, whose hair fanned and tangled on the cushion every time she tossed it.

Chat Noir bit his lip, pulled his hands away to instead cup her cheeks and leaned in to kiss her hard, swallowing her sweet noises and feeling her chest against his, soft and warm. Her hips stopped, her knees pulled up and pinned against Chat’s sides. She curled her hands around his wrists, her grip slack when he broke away.

He was gentle about righting her clothes again, doing everything with languid motions and indulging himself with more innocent touches until the night shirt was down to her thighs again and he had picked the blanket up off the floor. With some rearranging, they lay down together, Marinette rested on her good side with her head on Chat Noir’s chest. He played with her hair, teasing out small knots. He had never seen it down before, she always wore it in pigtails. It was beautiful and held just the slightest curl at the ends.

 

“Thank you.” He said, after a long pause where they each got lost in their own thoughts. Chat was staring at the ceiling, and Marinette only moved her head a fraction.

“For what?”

Chat Noir hadn’t really thought of a way to explain it. _Thank you for being alive? Thank you for letting me kiss you and touch you and really feel that you are alive? Thank you for being the one to draw the guilt out of me like drawing poison from a wound?_ “Just… Thank you, princess. And I’m sorry for my bad behaviour earlier.” She sat up then and he followed, swinging his feet down to the carpet and Marinette sat with her legs tucked under her.

“You were upset, but don’t ever talk to me like that again, kitty. Otherwise I won’t… We won’t…” She sighed, shaking her head. “We won’t be friends. If you show up on my balcony, I won’t let you in anymore.”

Chat smiled and nodded, touching the back of her hand lightly. “Of course.”

 

With some determination, Marinette had climbed up onto her bed after Chat Noir and stood up so that she could see out of the trap door that led to her balcony, smiling up at him from where he crouched. He leaned forward, kissing her forehead. “Goodnight, princess.”

“Goodnight, kitty.”

Chat Noir stood to leave then, but stopped with his hand on the railing, staring out over the cityscape before looking back over his shoulder to her. His voice was strange when he spoke, cautious and low that she almost missed his words. “I’ll always protect you, Marinette.”

And then, before he took to the ledge and jumped off with his familiar, angular grin he said just as softly as before:

“I’m closer than you think.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned into such a long chapter, good lord. 3,000+ words for what was meant to be an all over "light" fanfic.  
> It's not even just three chapters anymore! There will be a fourth, but that one really will be brief. Just a wrap up, I think.  
>   
> Anyways, thank you everyone for all of the kudos and support! It really brightens my day when I get those e-mails letting me know that people are enjoying my work, especially when I haven't really written anything more than a drabble in years and years.
> 
> Also, I have a tumblr! historicalmarinette.tumblr.com  
> :*


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug is forced to confront her emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The itsy-bitsy playlist I listened to as I wrote this chapter:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBdlktuDJRQ  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_eOmvM-4zc  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XRY4Je3bkk8 
> 
> I apologize if I missed some spelling errors! I did check it over, but I wrote most of this chapter on the bus to and from work, and auto-correct is a function I love to hate.  
> Enjoy!

The week that followed left Marinette feeling like she was caught in a whirlwind and her feet would never touch the ground again. No new akuma had appeared all week, and for the first time in her life Marinette found it as no relief. She was itching to prove herself. Itching for a fight. She hadn’t seen Chat Noir again since he had leapt off her balcony, leaving her alone with the knowledge that whoever Chat Noir was beyond the persona was someone close to her, or at least someone she knew. She would have called his absence a blessing, only she had come to realize that the best way for her to avoid her emotions was to drown in his.There was still a mark from where his lips had been on her hip and it burnt like an ember against her skin even as it started to fade away. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that she wanted to feel his mouth again-- she was almost never ashamed of her feelings, embarrassed yes, but not shamed, not even by her own heart’s change of allegiance. Chat Noir was more tangible now than Adrien had ever been although that did come with the weight of knowing that eventually, things were going to come to a head. It was only a matter of time. These were the problems Marinette had; as Ladybug, she had become obsessed with roaming through Paris all night, patrolling the calm and quiet streets and finding no satisfaction in it.

She was angry, and she was about to explode.

She was guilty, and it was eating her alive.

 

Chat Noir found her sitting atop a mangled jungle gym at the park that looked barely touched by the clean up efforts of the city. It had been easy to figure out that she was at ground zero, she had been spotted there twice already this week. Plus, he just _knew._

The park was sectioned off by red tape that rustled in the breeze. Chat Noir climbed up the wrecked metal nimbly, finding a place to perch that was comfortable enough, since Ladybug had already taken the prime spot. She was staring off, so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't acknowledge him with anything more than a quick glance. She looked tired and sad, her feet dangling below her lifelessly and her hands only wrapped around the bars tight enough to stop her from falling. “You should have told me you wanted to patrol, my lady.”

“I didn't want to,” she said as she finally faced him full on, “at least not with company.” He visibly baulked at her words, not quick enough in his recovery to stop her from jumping to the uneven ground, back to him even as he followed.

“Ladybug, what's wrong? You've been out here at least twice this week. Why?” _All week_ , she wanted to correct him but didn't, shaking her head.

“Nothing's wrong, Chat. I shouldn't  have said that, I just wanted to be alone.”

“But _here_ , of all places? I thought you said that you weren't blaming yourself.” She swallowed hard at that, bringing her hands to her front as she squeezed them into fists. She had lied to him about feeling no guilt, lied for his sake because he had already been through enough that night. As Ladybug, here and now, she wasn't a good liar.

“I… why shouldn't I? It was my fault. I should have been there, you should have never have… you should have never have seen that body, it should have been me! All of it should have been me, if I'd just been there, doing my duty instead of--!” she cut herself off with a sharp inhale, bowing her head. The silence fell between them hard and heavy. She wrapped her arms around herself, swallowing down all she wanted to say to him. She had never been more glad that to him Ladybug and Marinate were individuals. If Chat knew, this right here would destroy everything that had been patched up in him that last night they had been together, where she had been able to distract herself from her own troubles by smoothing out his.

“Ladybug, it's done with now.” Chat spoke softly, and she heard his cautious steps toward her, and jumped when his hand came down on her shoulder, whirling around to face him and feeling the dam break inside her.

“No it's not!” she shouted, and she would have admired Chat’s suppression of his flinch if she wasn't so furious, her small hands flying up against his chest, still curled in fists. “I'm so-- I'm so _angry_ , Chat, I'm so angry and it-- I can't make it stop! This is my fault, I wasn't there, I _failed_ and I can never let it happen again!” she was shouting and she knew it, her hands pounding against leather over and over until her wrists were caught, but she struggled against them. Anger made her sloppy, she was the only one struggling for control between them. “I-- I can't fail you or anyone else again!”

Chat Noir let her shout and struggle, pour her heart out to him while she did her best to knock the air out of him. He said nothing, just holding her wrists until Ladybug finally was racked by a sob, her shoulders shuddering and the first of many tears rolled down her cheeks, gathering on her chin and Chat watched the first drop fall between them. Then he pulled her to him, and she seemed to wilt in his embrace, her hands still fists against his chest but they were finally still. Ladybug sobbed and it was a sound that broke Chat’s heart even more than the way her body trembled and tensed, her back heaving under his hands.

“Come on,” He said as he picked her up, slipping an arm under her legs to hold her like a bride, and she didn’t protest, wrapping her arms around his neck and hiding her face against his shoulder. He carried her away from the park, using his baton to raise them above it all and land lightly on a rooftop, setting Ladybug down on her feet, facing away from the park. She was still trembling as she tried desperately to calm herself down, wiping at her damp face even as the tears continued to fall. Chat Noir pulled her head back to his chest, his hand resting against the nape of her neck. “It’s okay to cry.” he said softly, taking her hands away from her face. She looked up at him, tear streaked and flushed, and cried some more. She didn't stop until there were no tears left to spill and she was exhausted, limping away from Chat to sit on the ledge of the roof, knees pulled to her chest and faces buried in them.

He was worried for her, but knew all he could do was be with her. He sat with only a hand’s width between them, and waited for her to speak.

“... I hadn't cried about it until now.” She confessed, turning her cheek against her knee to look over at her partner. “It's all been such a mess, and I wish I could block out the idea that I should have been there with you when the akuma appeared. I want to make up for it… I want to give you a break.”

“That's why you're patrolling? In hopes an akuma will show up?” she nodded sheepishly. “My lady, we’re partners. We don't do anything without the other when possible, and when we do have to go it alone, we don't demand that the other handles the next fight alone in return. Something went wrong with the last akuma, and honestly I don't know if you would have been able to stop it from happening anymore than I was. It was an anomaly.”

“... You think so?”

“When was the last time you saw an akuma flee?” she couldn't argue with that, nodding to herself more than him. Chat Noir made a good point, and maybe she conceded just because she couldn't stand chasing the ‘what if’s’ around her head anymore. Or maybe it was just because Chat was right. They were partners, she didn't need to go out looking for trouble alone, and she didn't have to hold her feelings in for his sake. He saw right through her at times like this, anyway.

“Besides,” Chat carried on, throwing her his signature grin, “I’d be bored beyond belief and heartbroken if you decided to do this all alone.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes, finally unfurling from her ball, legs hanging over the ledge as she reached to scratch under his chin. “And we couldn't have that now, could we?” she smiled, and Chat Noir watched the weight lift off her shoulders piece by piece. What was left behind would fall away only with time. “Thank you, kitty cat. I… I have a feeling that things are going to be okay. But I hope the city stays this quiet for just a little longer.”

“Me too.” Chat agreed, leaning over to kiss the crown of Ladybug’s head and she playfully pushed him away shortly after. “Although, if you want to go strolling through Paris at night, I'll be _more_ than happy to accompany you, my lady.”

“Chat Noir, would you behave for once?” she huffed, standing up carefully and stepping down from the ledge, unsurprised that Chat followed, throwing his arms around her shoulders in a hug. She leaned back into it and reached to pat his cheek. “It's late, kitty cat, we should _both_ be home.”

“I suppose so.” his arms fell away and they parted. Ladybug wandered to the farthest ledge, her yo-yo in hand but not yet unfurled. A question spun around her head that she couldn't shake, looking back over her shoulder at Chat Noir.

_I'm closer than you think._

_How close?_

“Chat Noir?”

“Hm-- yes, my lady? Want an escort home?” his grin faded gradually the longer Ladybug stared without answering and he took a step towards her.

“No- it's nothing. Get home safely, Chat. And thank you again.”

And yet she hesitated, looking back at him until the tension was cresting. Tangible. Chat was tangible and only metres away from her and she wondered, if he was as willing to drown in her feelings as she was his. And in a flurry she decided to find out, the space between them was empty and on the tips of her toes, she kissed him and squeezed his shoulders tight and she stayed there until the shock wore off him and Chat kissed her back, his arms tight around her tiny waist until the kiss tapered off in a natural kind of way and they fell back, his hands still on her waist and hers on his shoulders. Chat looked like he had just been slapped, disbelieving that that had actually happened. Ladybug licked her lip and stepped back, starting to turn away and stopping to say something so softly, Chat nearly missed it.

“I'm closer than you think.”

He was too stunned to move, and she was gone before any words formed in his head, and even when one surfaced, it was only one.

_Marinette._

 

The city flew past him in a blurr. He knew where he was going, in fact Chat Noir was pretty sure he knew the _fastest_ way to get there, too, leaping from rooftop to rooftop until that familiar bakery was in sight. He stopped one house over, the street dividing them but it was close enough to see Ladybug land on that same balcony he had visited over and over, sometimes not even to see Marinette, just to be near her. She landed with grace among the flowers and in a flash of light, Ladybug was gone and instead Marinette stood there, wearing a loose dress and pink scrunchies held her hair in place tonight.

So it was true. All this time and she was right in front of him, his shy and brilliant classmate was his brave and equally as brilliant partner. He leapt, catching her balcony railing and swinging himself up to land behind her. Marinette didn’t start, she just turned to face him with a sheepish smile, her cheeks flushed and goosebumps raising up along her exposed arms. Chat Noir stared at her like it was the first time he had ever seen her, almost embarrassed that he had never noticed just how alike Ladybug and Marinette were in appearance and, when he really thought about it, in personality too. Marinette now seemed like a quieter version of her superhero self, and he could relate to that.

“Why did you tell me?” Was the first thing he thought to ask, still just standing there, only the street lights making them visible to each other.

“I don't know- I wasn't even sure you would hear me. I can't lie and say I didn't think you would figure it out, though. Maybe I wanted you to.” She shrugged a little, her fingers laced together in front of her, her palms a hollow cup. “Is it disappointing?”

“ _Disappointing_?” Chat Noir sounded personally offended by the word, closing the distance between them to grab her by the shoulders, leaning down to meet her eye. “Nothing about you had ever, or will ever disappoint me, princess. And now I understand why you weren't there to fight the akuma. You were caught in its attack.” Marinette nodded, curling her hands around his wrists and smiling up at him, her eyes still red from crying behind her mask. Chat couldn't help himself as he leaned down to kiss under her eyes, down her cheek and finally her lips, over and over in little tiny, worshipful pecks. Marinette’s lips. Ladybug’s lips. Lips he had dreamt about kissing for so long and they were finally his. She giggled against his insist mouth, catching his face in her hands to hold him back.

“Kitty cat.” She said, her voice more sober than his, but still warm. “Everything I said to you, as Ladybug as well, I meant it. None of any of this was your fault and… because of you, I know it wasn't mine, either. You really did save me.” And for that she rewarded him with a kiss, warm and gentle, and he returned it just the same before pulling back with his signature grin which made Marinette’s stomach flip.

“Well, you know what you have to do now, don't you?”

“What?” she frowned and Chat Noir was already skirting away, hopping up onto the railing of her balcony and saluting her with two fingers to his temple.

“ _Find me_.”

  
**_Fin._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are! The end! Let your imaginations run wild with what becomes of them both (or maybe there will be a sequel, who knows!)
> 
> I would just like to say a MASSIVE thank you to everyone who has left kudos, comments and even just read my work! You guys really have brightened my days to no end, and that's really motivated the heck out of me, which is why I wrote this all in like a week. I've never written for such an active and amazing fandom before, I didn't think my work would get more than 100 views let alone /1,000/+. Wow. I love you guys, and I hope you enjoy this final installment.  
> xx

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out to be more than I planned it to be. I was just going to write a cute little one-shot about Chat cleaning Mariette up after a spot of bad luck. Now, some 2,500+ words later, I know this is going to be a multi-chaptered (although the next two chapters will be shorter, no doubt) fic and hopefully an enjoyable one for anyone who reads it!
> 
> I had a small playlist when I was writing this chapter and I picked out a few worth listening to (they're not hugely related to the fic, aside from a title, but they're good!):  
> I Walk The Line - Halsey  
> Heartsigh - Purity Ring  
> Push Pull - Purity Ring  
> Begin Again - Purity Ring


End file.
